Feed The Children

Real Change Project

The first week of October is when things begin to change for good.

Edward has been scheming. Ideas flowing like never before, all logged into a file he's begun to call the Real Change Project. He spends a majority of his time at work writing on his ledgers, planning his escapade. He draws up contraptions, devices he'll use to kill, to torture, just like they tortured him. For them to really understand, he has to drive home the point that he's making—and that is that he will not be reconciled with. He doesn't try to hide himself from prying eyes anymore; when asked about the drawings, Edward says it's just a little idea for Halloween. He isn't questioned. He isn't cared about past the small talk people try to make. That invisibility is one of his greatest powers.

The time for talking is over, the incessant lies and promises that keep being made, the time is now for them to end. He continues to find the truth, to know the answers to his questions. He documents everything, and his once tidy apartment has turned into a mess of ledgers and notebooks and folders as he searches for those answers, one by one. He even begins building his contraptions, going out to find the materials he needs, or ordering them online, and they pile up on every surface in his apartment imaginable.

He brainstorms ideas for his symbol, the name he'll go by, what he's going to wear. Last week, he visited the army surplus store and bought his mask. He only went to look around, but it caught his eye, the perfect mask for his plans. He looked around some more and found a matching jacket, and things were falling together perfectly. He bought some boots as well, gloves, and a few other pieces of equipment he needed.

Two weeks ago, he bought his gun. It was exhilarating, holding such a powerful weapon in his hands, testing it at the range with a completely clueless salesman at his side. He felt the kickback of the rifle course through him, and in that moment, he felt like everything would work out in his favor. Everything would go his way, because they had no choice. Edward was taking back his power, his control, no longer letting himself be taken from.

The city speaks to him, the fog of his past lifting. He finds out more and more about the mayor, the DA, Falcone, and things become clearer and clearer.

Will they listen, the citizens of Gotham, when presented with disturbing news of their precious leaders? Likely not. That's why Edward will make them listen, will make them see, and that's why he has to do all of this, to make them understand.

Edward is sitting with Bruce at the diner across the street in the same booth they first sat at, all those months ago. Conversation is easy between them, and Bruce has his bandana pulled down around his neck so he can sip from a cup of coffee. It's quiet today, oddly peaceful, and nobody bothers them—not even Sierra comes around with her carafe of coffee to refill their cups.

Edward has a notebook open in front of him, and in it he scribbles an alphabet he's been working on, a cipher. He's memorized each letter and can read words written in the language like English.

"You're always wearing that jacket," Bruce points out, breaking the silence that had formed between them.

Edward looks down at himself, at the hoodie he wears nearly every day. "Yeah?"

"How long have you had it?"

"Just a couple years."

Bruce pauses for a moment. "Would you let me buy you a new one?"

Edward tries not to take offense to that, Bruce thinking he needs a new jacket because it's too old or worn out or whatever he thinks about it.

"No," Edward says. He tries to hide how uncomfortable that question made him.

Bruce looks like he's about to ask him, "Why not?"

Edward thinks of the time when he was seventeen when he was gifted a new coat for his birthday. It's one of his worst memories from his childhood, and that's saying a lot.